


In retrospect, he should have said Sherlock is a girl's name

by makokitten



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 20:43:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makokitten/pseuds/makokitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock says what he means on the runway. Then he has to deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In retrospect, he should have said Sherlock is a girl's name

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for "His Last Vow." Thanks to [Seth](http://h3rring.tumblr.com), as always, for betaing.

* * *

             _“John, there’s something… I should say—I_ _meant to say, always, and I never have.  Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now.”_

            John Watson waits, arms at his sides, hands balled into fists.  Waits.  Does not speak.  It is not his turn to speak.  Looks up.  Right now, in this moment, Sherlock is difficult to look at dead-on, but John must.

            Sherlock’s lips tighten, then open.  They remain open for just a second before he even says anything, as if he’s trying to figure out whether or not he wants to.  Brief inhalation.  Then: “I love you.”

            “Oh,” John hears himself say.  He’d half-expected it—had half-expected it for a very long time, actually—but it still feels like an electric shock to his system.  “Yeah, good.”

            Sherlock’s forehead creases.  “Good?”

            “Well, I mean,” says John, who knows that the situation is not at all good, what with him being married and Sherlock departing forever and that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, “I’ve always considered myself lovable.”

            After staring for a few torturously long seconds, Sherlock laughs.  John hoped he would.  He considers that the best possible parting gift.  Not an admission of something they both know would be impossible to follow up on, but a smile.  A little levity.  The dark cloud hanging over both their heads dispelled, just for a minute.  John laughs too.

            Still, very quietly, after their laughter subsides too soon, John says, “Thank you, Sherlock.”

            Sherlock’s nod is almost imperceptible.  He removes his glove and holds out his bare hand.  Formal.  Vulnerable.  Apologetic.  Resolute.  “To the very best of times, John.”

* * *

            The plane turns around.  It’s not supposed to turn around.  Sherlock’s throat constricts with both relief and panic.

* * *

            “The last thing I said,” Sherlock hisses as he brushes past John on the runway, gloved hands stuffed down into his coat pockets.  “You will ignore it.  Ignore all of it.”

            “Oh, right, _yeah_ ,” says John, loudly enough for his wife to hear.  It’s fine.  John suspects Mary always knew.  “How long am I meant to ignore that, exactly?  Until we’re done with Moriarty?”

            “For _ever_ ,” Sherlock calls, and the door to Mycroft’s car slams shut, and the car, Mycroft, and Sherlock Holmes all pull away from Mr. and Mrs. Watson, tires squealing on the concrete as if Sherlock can’t flee his own words quickly enough.


End file.
